


God Help The Outcasts

by Abitscrewy



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Canon Rewrite, Child Abuse, Depression, Drama, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Intense, Kurt's backstory is sad and really rough, Multi, PTSD, Please read disclaimer, Racism, eventual shipping, i hate the first 9 chapters, implied csa, polyamorous, rehash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abitscrewy/pseuds/Abitscrewy
Summary: Kurt Wagner's origins vary like all hell throughout the media types. This is my own take on it. Heavily inspired by Bluefrodo's Even Angels Have Scars. This will be a mix of a few different versions of Kurt. Starting with the Mojoworld origin where we see him growing up in Herr Getmann's Travelling Menagerie.





	1. Disclaimer

This work is dark and will deal with the following subjects:  
-Depression  
-Anxiety  
-PTSD  
-Racism  
-Circus 'freakshows'  
-Alcoholism  
-Child abuse  
-CSA  
-Mob mentalities  
-Violence  
-The G/ypsie slur (As much as I fucking hate it, Getmann canonly uses it)  
-Kidnapping  
-Torture  
-Swordfighting  
-Revenge  
-True love  
Please be aware of this and stay safe!!!


	2. Down To The River

-Somewhere in Germany-

 

A caravan of Roma travels south as it gets colder. Today is a day of rest however, and they have chosen a lovely spot by a river to set up camp. A young mother of two sits nearby said river while her children play. Young Stephan Szardos -only four years old-, and Amanda Szardos only a year younger than her brother. Amanda isn't allowed too far into the stream of water as she hasn't quite grasped swimming yet, but Stephan sees something out a ways from the bank. Something floating. A bundle of cloth seemingly tied to a piece of driftwood. A soft noise comes from the bundle and in a moment Stephan swims out towards it. At the sight, he calls his mother from her spot beneath an oak tree.

Margali raises a brow at the noise from her son, for a moment worried that Amanda may have been hurt. Luckily, she seems fine. Yet her brother insists she come to him.

"Mother! A baby! There is a baby in the water!" he calls.

Well there goes her quiet day by the river.

The mother hurries to the bank and wades in, gently untangling the fabric from the wood and picking up the child who cries loudly in her arms. She's too distracted to notice his coloration until she reaches the bank again and sits down. By now other members of the camp are coming over to see what the commotion is about. She holds the little one close, brows furrowed with worry. He's blue... But breathing, seemingly healthy aside from probably incredibly hungry. Something tells her that this child is much more than human. She's never been immensely superstitious as the rest of her family, but she knows what she sees.

A man approaches with some others. Another woman, Margali's sister, sees the child and immediately draws back in fear.

"A demon! Sister.. You should have let the thing drown!" she accosts, and it almost seems like she's hiding from the 'creature'. The words make Margali's stomach twist in place, anger written candidly on her features. She stands with the baby in her arms.

"He's a _child!"_ she hisses at the elder woman. "A child who was sent to drown by some _despicable_ parent!" a scowl finds her, and the group around her all step back. Such anger from her. The man leading the group crosses his arms in warning, glaring daggers at the mother whose children grip to her legs tightly. Yet she persists.

"I don't believe in demons anyway. Perhaps you would understand if you had any more intelligence than a tea kettle."

"How dare you!-" the man finally spoke.

"How dare **I?!** " Margali shouts, stepping towards the man. The look in his eyes immediately informs her that this was a bad idea. She steps back, eyes wide as he draws his hand back to strike her across the cheek. The sound alone could make one flinch. The feeling is worse, but she clutches the infant tightly to her chest to keep it from being harmed by the recoil. She looks down, unmoving, scowling. The man crosses his arms again and huffs.

"Leave. Do not return. Do not even attempt to find us. That thing will only curse us all. As much as I love you, Margali... I cannot let this happen."

Love. What does he know about love.

"This child would not curse you, _but I will_."

These were Margali Szardos' last words to the camp before leaving with her children.

All three of them.


	3. Menagerie

The journey to Düsseldorf is long enough by caravan, but by foot it's longer. Long enough for Margali to come up with a name for her newest child. She thinks over many names. Hans, Lars, Viktor? No, none seem to fit. Eventually she feels the name Kurt fits best. Kurt Szardos. Amanda and Stephan seem to appreciate it as well. Granted, Amanda agrees with anything her brother says at this point and does not articulate very well on her own just yet.

* * *

 

The walk comes to a halt as Amanda complains that her feet hurt again. Margali is still mentally fuming over the reason they're even making this trek by foot. All of her anger is poured into the idea of cursing that man and his camp. To hell with them, she thinks. It's not fair. She has two young children and nowhere else to go. What on Earth is she meant to do?

Her question is answered quickly enough. Nearby are sounds of another kind of camp. The kind with lights and games and tricks and fancy. A circus, it seems, by the name of Herr Getmann's Roaming Circus. An idea strikes the young mother of three. A place to stay. Travelling, so not much of a change from her normal habits. It could be a dream, it could be perfect. She tells Amanda to hold on just a little longer, and asks one of the strongmen where the ringmaster's offices would be.

A lorry at the back of the circus, away from the setup where the living quarters stay.

Margali takes a deep breath, and knocks firmly on the door, still holding the blue infant to her breast. The door swings open to a short, plump man in his mid-thirties. Small round glasses to match his round features. An unassuming face, a marked look of curiosity at the newcomers. He looks the small group over with mild interest, raising a brow.  
"Yes? How may I help you three?" he notes the bundle in her arms and assumes it's just a normal child. If only he knew.

"Oh.. I..." She had no idea what she was going to say. She hadn't planned any of this, didn't think it through, didn't get this far. She's exhausted, looking down to her children and back up at the master of the circus.

"I came to humbly request your help... I was exiled from my camp..."

"Ahh!" The man pipes up as she trails off. "We've been searching for a real Gypsy! Come in, come in!" He shuffles back into his trailer gesturing for her to follow, which she does. "Our last Gypsy wasn't nearly convincing enough. You read cards? Palms? Horoscopes, fortunes, mystical things yes?"

"Er, not exactly... Not quite like that. I mean, Tarot.."

"Close enough, I'd say!" He lets out a bark of a laugh and pours a cup of tea for the wayward mother. "You can stay with us as our new Mystical Sorceress! I'm sure nobody will tell the difference, your faces all seem to blend together after a while,"

Margali opens her mouth but quickly bites her tongue. Her children need this. They need a place to grow up, a safe place to stay. She has to do this. Bear through it, as much as she hates it. Where else is she supposed to go?  
Getmann sets the tea on a small table and gestures for her to sit. She does.

"I do apologize, I nearly forgot introductions! I am Max Getmann, head of the circus! Though you likely knew that to begin with."

"Thank you," Margali mutters, picking up the tea and taking a sip. Careful to hold Kurt steady so as not to drop him. This all seems like a dream.

"I am Margali Szardos. These are my children. Stephan, Amanda, and Kurt" she raises the bundle in her arms as she finishes the introductions. She's almost afraid she'll suddenly wake up back on the side of a country road. No. She has to stay positive. This is really happening and she needs to accept it and keep a cool head.

"So... Getmann.. My children are welcome as well?"

"Of course! What sort of monster would turn a family back out into the cold when they have such youth and talent among them? Though I do expect you all to earn your keep. Even the little one eventually!" He lets out another hearty laugh and sips on a cup of tea he'd poured before Margali had knocked. He seems friendly, welcoming, warm. Yet something about him seems off.

She shakes the notion from her mind and chuckles along softly.

The rest of the day is spent hashing out details about the Szardoses staying in the circus. Setting them up in the former Palmist's trailer. Kurt was never seen, and a part of Margali is incredibly thankful for this. Thanking whatever forces may or may not be out there watching them.

She's able to keep together, keep her family together. This place seems lively. She's even able to set up shop that evening when the circus opens. The place is mildly popular, enough people to keep them going. Getmann thinks they need more attractions, a couple new acts in the main tent perhaps. Margali won't question it. Too tired during dinner, and nobody really questions her. Everyone is so accepting and kind to them. Amanda and Stephan seem content too.

Is this it? Is this what it's like to be a good mother in a time of desperation? Perhaps it's luck.  
She doesn't care what it is. She just hopes there's more to go around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans and Lars are both characters in Bluefrodo's Even Angels Have Scars.


	4. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever meet someone who you think is fine, but then realize that they're a monster? You realize too late?

"Kurt, please stay quiet.." Margali groans, waking from her ever-restless sleep. Again.

It's 4:30 in the morning and she's slept for maybe an hour. Kurt just does not sleep at night. He's only a year old, but he already has so much energy. Especially when the sun has fallen and the moon shines through the window into his crib. She's tried to put up drapes to hide him from the moonlight, thought it may have been waking him. It only makes him cry instead of shuffle around and make smaller noises. He longs for that light, for the smell of the breeze when the window is open. So she's left the drapes open.

"Come now, Kurt.. Can't I sleep for the whole night for once..?" babies are always problematic when it comes to sleep, but Kurt has been so much... Extra.

The little blueberry is constantly perched like some kind of gargoyle sans-wings. His legs are such a unique shape, like that of the hind legs of a cat with toes like fingers. His nails are sharper than they should be, and sometimes the spade of his tail sharpens as well. Luckily it hasn't scratched her, just poked Stephan when he got too close and accidentally scared his younger brother. Kurt's eyes shimmer and almost glow in some lighting. Sometimes when Margali looks to his crib it seems like he's not there if the light isn't right. He nearly gave her a heart attack.

Margali lifts the little one into her arms, rocking him slowly and humming. His little tri-digit hands outstretch and grasp at locks of his mother's hair. He giggles and makes little burbling sounds. She gently pulls her hair back around to rest on the opposite shoulder. Having her hair pulled isn't exactly her idea of a good time. He continues to make grabby hands for a moment before moving to such on the spade of his tail. Even gnawing on it a little. Margali rolls her eyes and looks around for his little teething toy, but he doesn't want to let go of his tail and she doesn't want to risk him crying.

She takes a deep breath and sits down on her cot. "What am I going to do with you, child." she chuckles quietly, trying not to wake the others.

Kurt seems to respond by reaching up and papping her cheek.

_Good lord how could anyone ever be angry at you._

The gentle pap against her cheek brings a smile to her face, and she sets a kiss on his forehead. He makes more baby noises, wiggling his legs. She lays back down on the cot, holding him close until the sun rises when he's finally sound asleep.

* * *

She doesn't know how it didn't hit her until this moment. How his aura didn't fill her with disgust from the beginning. His calling her a 'real Gypsy' and talking about her abilities like they're cheap tricks. Asking her to cook his meals. He was nice about it at first. It seemed more like she's doing him a favor since he always seems so busy with work. Something in the back of her mind had been screaming at her, trying to get noticed, and she'd ignored it.  
It's too late now.

She'd heard a baby crying from the main tent. She couldn't help but try to go see what was happening.

"What are you-" she's interrupted by the crack of a whip. He hadn't even seen her come in. She could have left and said nothing

The ring leader spins on his heel. A whip in one hand, a bottle of.. Something... In the other. Various empty bottles of beer sitting on his desk. Another mother, one Margali had begun to get along with, is laying on the ground holding her newborn and sobbing. There's a mark on her cheek, and her dress is tattered in places. Margali can only assume, and she's disgusted and fearful of the thought, that this woman is being tormented for some reason. What reason would a man have to do this to a mother while her child is in her arms?!

Her distraction by her friend costs her. The man steps angrily and quickly towards her, lifting the whip and slamming the butt of it into her temple. She yelps and topples to the ground, cringing and shuffling away from him.  
 _Oh god oh god oh god no please-_

**CRACK**

"What- What did I do?!"

"Do **NOT** disturb me while I am **WORKING** , _WHORE!"_ he shouts, slamming the bottle onto the ground near Margali. She jumps and lets out a sound of panic. "Worthless. You filthy worthless whores! Get out of my sight!! And SHUT THAT CHILD UP!"

Margali staggers to her feet and helps her friend up, hurrying her out of the tent and back to the Mystic trailer. 

"Stephan, get some ice please," She calls frantically to her eldest. He was reading, but complies as soon as he sees what's going on. Well, he doesn't know what's going on, but he knows his mom and his mom's friend are hurt. If she needs ice, he's going to get it for her.

Amanda peeks in from the kitchen area where she totally hadn't been trying to raid the snacks. Her brother passes her and she can feel his worry. This place is wrong.

 

 

 


	5. Devil

Few days pass and Margali is trying to consider what's best for her children. This place is wrong, dangerous, volatile. She doesn't think she can make them stay, but they have nowhere to go. Romani aren't treated very well to begin with, but with Kurt.. She can only hide him for so long until something is bound to happen. She holds him close each night and cries.

Amanda and Stephan are terrified. If something is making their mother cry, it must be awful.

* * *

 

"Margali?"

"The door is closed, Getmann."

"Not to me it's not, open up."

"I'm feeding Kurt. Perhaps later."

The door opens and she has to cover Kurt with a blanket. She scowls at him as he steps in, but he doesn't seem to care how much she glares. He crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

"If you expect me to offer you tea, you're going to have to come back later."

Max grunts and finds himself a bottle of soda in the fridge. Margali doesn't mind that as much. She minds more that he lives on the same plane of existence as she and her family. Her eyes follow him, wishing the daggers they glare could actually pierce him. Her hands are a little preoccupied with feeding her youngest, who suckles so eagerly on the bottle he's been given. But he's moving around a lot too. He's not usually covered with a blanket, so he thinks it a game. He giggles softly, grasping at the blanket and starting to move it. Margali panics, trying to keep him covered up. She wanted it to seem like he was trying to sleep maybe.. Actually she doesn't know what she expected. Kurt makes a small noise and she sighs.

"I'm here about the other day..." he begins. "I'm.. Sorry you had to see that. Maria was caught stealing food and giving it to the animals. The kind of food that could harm the animals as opposed to helping them. There have been several other offenses.."

"No need." Margali huffs, not buying his bullshit for one moment. Kurt makes another noise, he's done with the bottle. She stands, looking to set the bottle on the counter.  
"We are leaving the circus. Find another 'Gypsy whore' for your circle of hell you have here."

"Margali-" Max grabbed her arm, jostling her enough that she dropped the bottle. She leaned to pick it up, and Kurt took this as his opportunity to crawl from her grasp. He's a little wobbly on the landing and ends up rolling onto his back, giggling the whole time. Only partially covered by the blanket, his face and tail are fairly Visible. Not to mention his hands, which are reaching up for Margali at the moment.

The two adults look down at the child, but there's a marked difference between the two.  
One looks with love, looks with worry.  
One looks with disgust and detestation.

However, Kurt seems unaffected by the latter. He's too busy pulling on Margali's scarves and blurbing out small noises while Max staggers back in shock.

"What in God's name- Why did you not tell me about this, Margali?!"

"Surely you can't be _that_ stupid, Herr Getmann."

"This could be it! We could draw the crowds again, draw _better_ crowds..! Business is _slow_ , we need new things to draw attention!"

"Kurt is not a _thing!_ He's a _child!_ "

"I disagree," Max huffed, carefully stepping towards the two again. Margali tried to scoop Kurt up, but the slippery little one crawls away from the both of them. Getmann raises a brow and gives a look that only the slimiest creatures ever to walk to earth get when they realize something.  
"You know, Margali.." he chuckles, watching her chase after the little creature. "No one else would _dare_ take you in. Not with that _thing_. They'd kick you right back onto the streets. What kind of mother lets her children **starve to death on the open road?** " he strokes his chin, almost seeming genuinely worried for a moment.   
"I'm offering you _sanctuary_. A place to stay as long as all of you pull your weight. **All of you**. Kurt will be expected to, once he's old enough of course! I'm not some heartless bastard!" he actually laughs as if it's not a joke.

Margali feels sick. She feels like she might keel over if only for the fact that he's right.

There's nowhere for her to go. She's doomed her children and herself to a life she's sure will be fraught with pain and sadness.  
Not that she'll give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Heaven's no. She lets Kurt crawl under the bunks, and smiles softly.

"Kids, huh?" Max smiles cockily.

Margali punches him so hard that he actually puts a small hole in the floor when he falls, scraping his elbow on the bent metal as he does.  
"Yeah. Kids." she snarls.


	6. Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt sneaks out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it takes me so long to write these. Writing Getmann makes me feel dirty. So I decided this chapter should be slightly more lighthearted at least.

A sickening feeling rests in Margali's gut. Ever since the day Kurt was revealed to the ringmaster of the circus, and it doesn't show signs of stopping any time soon. He 'politely' requested that Margali keep him out of sight of the others. "Never know how they might react! I can't control what scared people do, Margali, but I can try."  
Right. The only reason he let her youngest live is because he saw _profit_ to be made.

She agreed to his 'sensible' demands. Kurt was to be kept in her trailer either hidden in his crib among blankets, or in another room while she works with clients. It's easier when he's an infant, he doesn't cause much trouble during the day aside from the occasional bout of energy. However by nightfall his mother is exhausted, and hardly has the energy to oblige him. She tries her best, but Stephan and Amanda definitely help more. Neither were old enough to be of much help around the rest of the camp, so they'll play with him in another room or help feed him if their mother is busy.

Those years were the easiest of them.

As her children grew, Getmann's requests for them to help became more insistent. Especially Stephan. By the time he's eleven, Max has him working with the roustabouts setting up camp. Amanda is being taught to cook and shows an affinity for caring for others. She learned how to stitch a wound when she was _nine_. Margali believes this circus is cursed, considering the constant barrage of accidents, paired with the new Strongman with an ill temper. Margali and Amanda have helped so many of the women and young girls recover from any one of his outbursts. Some of the women even left, and Margali envies their courage and their resources to do so. She only recently became numb to the guilt, her once fiery tongue held back by the need to keep her children safe. Her head lay on years of tear stains. She can't find the will to cry anymore. Now she lays staring at the bunk above her, or watches Kurt sneak to look out the window at the moonlit fields.

 

 

 

None of his pleas to leave the trailer were obliged. The most interaction he had with the other people in the circus was when they came to visit Margali or Amanda. Though if they were injured, he was not to interrupt the two of them. So he'd sit perched on the edge of his bunk, tail flicking behind him, eyes shining with curiosity. The ladies that visit don't seem to mind him, but one time a couple of Stephan's friends visited.

"What is that?" one of them asks Stephan in a hushed tone, staring directly at Kurt. Kurt waves and smiles a radiant smile, placing a puzzle piece onto the table with a soft _tap_.

"He's my brother. Sort of," was Stephan's answer.

"Creepy, does he watch you guys sleep or something?"  
Kurt looks at Stephan, then at the questioning friend. He was about to respond when he's interrupted. That, or they're ignoring his ability to speak for himself.

"Did your mom summon him?"  
"Come on Steph, let's play outside, he's starting to freak me out."

Kurt had just been sitting at the table doing a puzzle. He would have moved the puzzle if they asked. He didn't understand. Nor did he understand why it upset him enough to vault into his bed and start crying. Stephan tried to apologize later, but by then Kurt just wanted to forget it.

 

 

 

Kurt is so bored he thinks his brain might melt into mush. He's been staring at the same walls, reading the same books, playing the same 'quiet games' for seven years. At night he's allowed to open the curtains as long as they aren't facing any of the other trailers. He'll look out at the stars, the world around the trailer he's trapped in. He complains to Amanda and Stephan that they get to go out and he doesn't, but they just tease him about it. Stephan once made a comment that if he leaves, he'll be taken away by the Devil. Before Kurt could ask who or what the Devil was, their mother had swiftly smacked his brother upside the head and told him not to speak of things he doesn't know. Kurt stuck out his tongue at his older kin.

None of these memories quell his boredom. The spade of his tail flicks behind him, ideas brewing in his head. When he looks towards his mother's bunk and finds her to be asleep, his decision is made. He opens and closes the door as quietly as possible, and stands on the attached step for a moment. The breath of fresh air is almost enough to send his heart soaring. He's felt a breeze before, but only through a window. Only ever at night. He wonders what the sun might feel like on his fur.

The night welcomes him like an old friend, beckoning him to take a step onto the silvery grass.  
Kurt is not one to deny an old friend! He steps down onto the soft soil, immediately grinning and holding back a giggle. Soon enough he's sprinting on all fours through the campground. Nobody is awake, or nobody is in their trailers. Either way, he's silent and swift with the shadows that blanket him.  
Until he finds the big tent. It's dark and large and looming over him like a giant. He isn't scared. He's enamored with it, honestly.

The tent is filled with seating arrangements and equipment. Kurt enters the space like it's holy ground, a strange feeling surrounding him. He can't help but loose a bit of a laugh, but he covers his mouth to muffle the noise. He jumps up onto one of the rows of benches, then the next, then the next until he's reached the highest point he can. He stands on the top bench, looking out over the stage. He spots rope and ladders and lots of strange little pieces of equipment.

Hopping down the benches brings him to the edge of the stage proper. He steps on and finds that he likes the feeling of it beneath his soles. He heads towards a large ladder that looks to lead to the top of the tent where a platform sits. His eyes sparkle with delight. He's climbed on just about everything since he was very little. Ladders are _easy_ , and he makes quick work of scaling it to get to his chosen destination. There's hardly any fear in him. He holds onto the supports on either side, but leans himself forward to look off the edge. He feels like he could so easily fly, but he's learned he does not have that skill. Falling off of his bunk hurt enough, and this is much higher.

He sits and dangles his legs off of the platform, humming lazy made-up tunes to himself. He stays there for a couple hours before sneaking his way back to the trailer. Nobody woke up. Nobody even knew he was gone.  
He thinks he'll have to do this again soon, and he dreams of flying


	7. Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !Warnings for this chapter!  
>  Abuse  
> Manipulation  
> Grooming  
> Physical violence against a child  
> Kurt gets his first cage.

No one bothered to ask Kurt why he was so chipper the next morning. Nor the following mornings for the next few months. He knows winter is coming,so he tries to get outside as many nights as possible. Sometimes his mother stays up late or they have someone to attend to, but most of the time he can escape until nearly sunrise. It's not odd of him to sleep during the day, so nobody questions him. His plan is perfect, flawless, absolutely-

"What the hell are you doing outside, boy?!"

This voice is new. Someone he hasn't met before. Kurt just about jumps out of his velvet-covered skin when he hears it. He stumbles and trips over a root of the stump he'd been sitting on, falling on his rear. Thankfully not in any harmful way to his tail, but it still stings and is probably going to bruise. Though currently that's very low on his list of current worries.

"I asked you a question!" the voice calls again, and is now paired with a body. A man who Kurt thinks must be as tall as a building, built just as square as one too. He stomps towards Kurt with large, loud boots that he could swear he heard clinking though no spurs would be found. So not a cowboy from any of his movies. Checks that off the list. Maybe he's a henchman for an evil scientist. These thoughts are swiftly interrupted when the henchman grabs Kurt by the hair and lifts him up onto his feet.

Kurt's eyes widen and he lets out a cry, grabbing at the offending hand and trying to pull it off of his hair. When it is not removed, he lifts his body up and kicks the man in the stomach. His legs are a lot more powerful than he'd expected, so he drops Kurt and staggers for a moment.

"You little **monster** , you're going to regret that."

He knows the words are true when the man's fist connects with his left eye and the world goes dark.

* * *

He rouses to the feeling of someone dragging him somewhere by the arm. His eye opens to the surprise that only one of them will do so, but he's unable to react much beyond whimpering. The henchman growls for him to be quiet and pushes something aside. A fabric Kurt remembers the sound and feeling of. He's yanked forward, scraping his knees on the edge of the platform in the big top. His arm is let go, sending him toppling forward. As soon as he realizes he's free, he scampers as far from him as possible. All the way to-

A desk?

There's a desk propped up against the main pole. This is new to Kurt. What's even newer is that there's another stranger here. A shorter man, built more like the big top himself with his roundness. Everything about him is round. From his round belly to the round reading glasses he's setting on his desk.

"Markus? What is this?" The round man asks, standing from his seat and looking down at Kurt, then to the building named Markus.

"I found that thing somewhere he's not supposed to be." Markus crosses his arms. His glare makes Kurt's chest tight and his breathing faster. "He wasn't in the trailer, I found him when I was headed to mine." he continues.

"Is that so?" The round one raises a brow. "Go fetch his mother for me, would you?"

"N-no, please!" Kurt's words are unbidden and apparently unwelcome. The glare from Markus gets worse, though the other seems kinder. Softer. Like a bean bag or an oddly shaped pillow. He decides he'd like to be closer to that than the skyscraper with angry eyebrows, and stands up to hide behind the one he deems safer. "P-please, she'll be so upset.. I just wanted to see what it was like outside! I.. I like the stars..." Kurt admits, stepping back around the side of the desk and staring at his feet and the tail curling around his ankle. He's dizzy and he stings, but he can tell her that he slipped on his tail. It's happened before.

The pillow man's smile only grows, still kind and gentle.

"Alright, but we really must talk, my boy," he approaches and lifts Kurt's chin up to look at him. His stare makes Kurt suddenly dizzier. "Go off to bed then, Markus. Kurt an I are going to have a chat."

"Hmph." Is the last noise Markus makes before turning and exiting, leaving the tent in relative silence. Kurt feels better, but he really just wants to go to the trailer.

"I... I'll go back. I won't go out again. Promise..!" Kurt pleads.

"Do you know who I am?" His elder questions, removing his hand and resting it on his vest.

Kurt gives him a good, long look to try and decipher it. "I don't think so.. I'm sorry," he mutters, looking away again.

"Ah, well, I suppose it's not like I come there very often. I'm rather busy, you see. My name is Max. I already know plenty about you, son. I took you and your family in. Your mother was in need of somewhere to stay. "

Son? Kurt very much doubts this man is his father.

"Do you know _what_ you are?"

Now that's a question Kurt himself has been asking recently. He reluctantly gives a soft "No." and Max nods.

"Hm... You watch movies, yes?" Kurt nods. "Have you seen any of the scary ones?" Kurt nods again. "Well, simply put, you're a movie monster in real life. Living proof that they exist, really. And it is my job to tell the world of the existence of wonders such as yourself!" Max's smile widens a little too much for Kurt's liking. He's a monster? But nobody in the movies likes the monsters. Even he doesn't. They're mean and they hurt people. He doesn't hurt anyone! Well, the once with Stephan was different.

Minutes tick by as Kurt thinks of what to say. Max waits patiently, sitting on the edge of the desk.  
Sturdy desk.

"Then... Why do I have to stay inside?" Kurt finally asks, thinking he's gotten the gist of it.

The man hums in thought. "Well, It wouldn't have been fair of me to ask so much of you when you were little. But you're a growing boy now!~ If you like, you can start to perform for the crowds! I'm sure you'll be wonderful at it, and really you won't have to do much. What do you say?"

"I... I'll be allowed out of the trailer..?"

"Of course! Can't do much in there now can you?" Kurt shakes his head, and Max nods. He reaches out and does the same as earlier, drawing Kurt's eyes up to meet his. Kurt gulps, shakes, wants to pull away. He doesn't really like this. When Max trails his thumb over his fur, he steps back and huffs. "Sorry, couldn't help myself..." the man mumbled, following Kurt's step and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You are quite the sight, my boy! Now, go and get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow!" He lets go of his shoulder after a reassuring pat, and gestures for Kurt to leave.

That was probably the strangest experience the little elf has ever had, and he finds himself replaying it in his head as he walks back to the trailer.

* * *

"Good morning!~" Max calls through their door, rapping on it excitedly. Margali groans, internally shouts several unbecoming curses, downs her coffee, and opens the door.

"Yes, Getmann?" she really isn't in the mood for him right now. It's too early. The circus hasn't even opened yet, or had its morning meeting with performers and dealers. Max pushes in without invitation, earning a scoff and a glare from Margali. "Where's young Kurt? Still asleep?"

"Why?" the mother stares quizzically at the man. She was about to press further when Kurt peeks down from his bunk.

"Ah! There you are, my boy!" Max smiles brightly, beckoning him down. Margali doesn't recall a time when he's been genuinely kind, so she's very wary of this. "Come down, come down. I have news!" he sits at the dining table while Kurt climbs down. His face is still bruised and darkened purple from the hit, but he seems chipper nonetheless. Smiling at least a little, rubbing his arm nervously. His tail hasn't left his ankle since the night before.

Margali sits at the table as far from Getmann as possible, and Kurt sits on her lap happily. "What is this about?" she asks, shooting daggers as hard as she can from her eyes and causing him to chuckle nervously through his teeth.

"Well, I've decided Kurt's old enough to start helping the circus! He's a fine young boy, Margali. Not like you can keep him in here forever, either!" he clucks his tongue, leaning an arm on the table. Margali thinks she can feel her soul push further away from him outside of her body, but she feels Kurt lean towards him a little.

"I can? Really??" Kurt grinned, tail releasing his leg and starting to whip about. Getmann follows its motions with his eyes and laughs a little louder.

"Yes! I'd like you both to come with me and see," he nods, standing from his seat and heading out the door. Before she can stop him, Kurt is up and following. She tells Stephan to take care of Amanda, and with a silent prayer to any God that will hear her, she leaves as well.

Their walk is quiet, broken up with the occasional musing from Kurt about the grass or the sun. He's so distracted that he hardly notices them both stop walking, nor Markus holding Margali back when Kurt walks straight into a cage. He'd been miles in the clouds during the walk. The moment the door clicks shut, he looks back and realizes. He can hardly hear Max talking over his mother screaming and pleading. Which is probably why Markus slaps her. Not that he cares. He sees her in pain and lunges for Max through the bars.

"Let her GO!! What did she do?! W-what did I do??" He's seen cages before, read about them. They're for animals or criminals, he knows that much.

"I can't have her ruining her own livelihood, son. Not as many people ask for palm readings anymore.. She's lifting less and less of her own weight, much less her children's. I could have to turn you and your family out if not for you! When people see you they'll love you! They'll pay just about anything to see-"

Kurt doesn't let him finish. He grabs Getmann by his shirt's collar and pulls him to the bars. His hands grab Kurt's wrists and squeeze, loosing a wince from the child. But he's not letting go, so Max squeezes again. This one earns sharp teeth sunk into his flesh. He shouts and pulls away, and Kurt spits the blood out onto the ground in front of the cage. His bravery is starting to waver, shaking and trying to pry open the cage from his side. But the key isn't in the lock.

"Go get the doctor!" Max shouts at one of the onlooking roustabouts, holding his bleeding hand. "And get me my whip!" he finishes, and the man obliges.

The glare from his captor is not nearly as terrifying as hearing his mother cry out apologies to him. Kurt doesn't see why she'd be saying sorry. She tried to stop them! Not just anyone could fight a walking building, but Kurt's sure going to try when he gets out of here. Though the thought is starting to turn more 'if' than 'when'. The bars aren't set wide enough apart for him to slip through, and the door won't budge. By the time the roustabout gets back, he's sobbing and pleading to be let out.

"QUIET!" Getmann barks as the doctor bandages him. "Is whine all you gypsies know how to do?!" he waves the doctor off and unravels the whip to the ground. Margali is crying softer, trying to silence herself. Her pleas are ignored.

"Leave.. Leave her alone! P-please don't hurt her!" Kurt chokes out, hardly able to see through one eye filled with tears and the other swollen. He doesn't realize that Max is headed towards him, not his sobbing mother.

A searing pain pours through his senses like a wave from a broken dam. The bars ring, or is it his ears? Something is ringing and is decidedly not stopping. Furthermore, something wet is running down his cheek. Only when the cage door opens does he realize he'd fallen on his back and started to clutch his face. Markus grabs his feet and unceremoniously pulls him out and for a moment he thinks maybe this could all have been a joke. Or maybe a nightmare.

His hopes are interrupted by a sound similar to lightning, and a feeling just as white hot over his chest. He howls and curls in on himself, but it doesn't sate the man. Another strike across his back and Kurt's body takes over. He's on all fours and kicking up dirt to run, but he just slams right into Markus blocking his path. Or is that another strongman? A roustabout? He's not sure, but he's dizzy and all he knows is a simple word.  
_Run._  
_Run._  
_**RUN!**_

Before his body can attempt to follow through, two pairs of hands grab him and pull him back towards the cage. He kicks and shouts, his throat quickly becoming dry and scratchy from the effort, but he's small and they are most certainly not. Though he's not put in the cage. Max holds out his hand for them to stop, and turns to the doctor.

"Doctor Mojo, I think we'll be needing that plan B we spoke of." he huffs. How come he's the one that gets to be out of breath?

This Mojo simply nods and searches through his bag before approaching Kurt with something he's not seen before. Something long and what seems to be glass, maybe plastic?

If he thought everything was blurry before, he should be surprised at how much of it follows a sharp pain and a burning sensation in his veins.

The last he hears is her cries before it all goes numb.

 

 


	8. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Non-consensual drugging  
> Abuse  
> Imprisonment  
> Glass thrown at Kurt  
> Child drugging  
> Distress

Heavy breaths weigh him down like bricks. Something is wet on his face, on his cheeks, on his forehead. He coughs but it only worsens the tightness in his lungs. A hand reaches up, touching the fur he finds wet with blood. He winces more at the sight than at the feeling, he’s not sure if he feels pain or not. All he can be sure of it the feeling of floating or perhaps being on a waterbed or a hammock. Not quite a solid surface as his body should be telling him. Not in the right mind.

He wheezes as he attempts to sit up, only succeeding in pushing fresh tears from his eyes. His brows knit together and he makes a small noise. Something pained from the very back of his throat, not a sound of his own volition. Something to signify the pain that’s finally hit him. Pain that only gets worse when he does sit up. If he felt like he was floating before, then this is definitely a step up. Where his chest is tight, his stomach is absolutely reeling. Were there anything in it to expel, he would be leaning over in the corner of this confined space at this very moment. As it were, he leans over cross-legged with his forehead against the cool metal below him.

He's not sure how long he's been sleeping or if he's been awake the whole time. he's lost track of how many people have passed, how many times the sun has been in the sky. He always wanted to feel the sun, but he's certain this doesn't count. This is not the freedom he wanted. If anything this is much worse than he imagined. Someone threw a bottle full of a disgusting liquid at him. It hit the bars and shattered, spraying his arm and side with pieces of glass. He remembers that through his haze and seems to think that's a good enough reason why his face is bleeding. He sits up again, pushing the dizziness away, refusing it in favor of focusing his vision as much as he can. That isn't an incredible amount. Enough to see that the one who threw it is a stranger, tall and dark and looming. He could swear the man had three faces.

Someone else looking into his cage is laughing, pointing. Someone steps in front of the cage and shouts something. Soon enough the people leave and he's fine with that. When they're there it's scarier. He sees so many eyes around him, like he's living in some awful nightmare.

Staring.

The shouting figure soon turns around to face him. He can barely recognize her scent through the smell of his blood and the liquid from the bottle.

"Mother..?" he whimpers, reaching a hand out towards the woman who brings him such comfort. She reaches through the bars to hold his hands, crying softly and muttering near-silent apologies. "What's wrong..? Are you okay...?" Kurt blinks slowly, dragging himself closer to her. He thinks he knows where he is, but at the same he has no idea. Something about it feels familiar, but not right. Everything is off, moving in ways it shouldn't.  
"Mother.. Why is everything moving... P-please. Please make the world stop moving..."

She would absolutely stop the world for him if she could. For now, all she can do is cry and mutter in Hungarian. This worries Kurt. Something is definitely wrong, but he doesn't know what and that scares him. It makes his chest all tight and twisted, which just makes everything move more in waves and shuddering vibrations. He shuts his eyes tight to try and get rid of it, crying quietly. "It hurts.."

"I-I know.. I know it hurts, Kurt. I'm going to get someone to help, okay?" Margali squeezes his hands and legs go despite him desperately reaching out for her and crying. She grabs one of the roustabouts and tells him very very firmly to go get a medical kit. Bandages, something to clean the wounds, something to pull out the glass. Kurt doesn't know what she's saying, but he missed her voice.

They aren't afraid to open the cage, he can barely move so they see no threat of running. Someone who isn't his mother grabs him by the wrist and pulls. He's dragged out of the cage and tossed unceremoniously onto a pile of what is probably hay. The world spins like a top around his head and all of the breath leaves his body. He wheezes, limply grasping his chest as tears continue to fill his already confused vision.

Whoever grabbed him started to do something else. He can tell, because there's a new pain in his arm that makes him yelp. He pulls his arm away in a surprising rise of strength, opening eyes he didn't realize had closed. The man is broad but lean, like someone flattened out a strongman with a rolling pin. The image makes Kurt laugh without realizing it.  
The man strikes him across the cheek and everything goes red.

He wakes again in the cage to a familiar voice. His favorite voice. Margali is reading something to him. He's not sure which book it is, but he hopes it's Treasure Island. That's one of his favorites.


	9. Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> CSA (Implied,)  
> CHILD ABUSE  
> IMPRISONMENT OF A CHILD

Two months in that cage, and they finally decide to stop giving him that poison. Whatever is in that syringe, Kurt has decided it's definitely poison. The villains in the books who used poisons were always different. You could tell they were evil, the story tells you right off the bat, but Getmann? Even his mother admitted to being tricked. She tries not to cry around Kurt, tries to appear calm and in control. At least in control of her emotions. She tells him stories, reads him books. Even teaches him how to read. The ringmaster doesn't seem to approve, but Margali doesn't care. She's going to teach Kurt as much as she can before this monster -God forbid- tears them apart for good.

Kurt's days are spent on display. He sees the others in the cages, they get to leave. They take breaks every now and then when there are less people, or during the performances in the main tent. Kurt doesn't get to leave. His lock is real. The hay, the smell of filth, the tears are real. They put a pedestal in the center of the cage recently. He's meant to sit on it, but more often than not he coils up in a corner. There's a rope around all the cages, but people seem to ignore his regularly. They want to get a closer look, but they're not often reprimanded since he's usually in the back anyway. The further back he is the harder it is to reach him, and people like to grab his tail if it's in reach.

His keeper had no patience for his hiding today. The man is meant to pull crowds in, shout, tell them what Kurt is or the lie they've come up with. A captured demon, kept harmless via spells or prayers or something. He never pays attention to the full spiel, too busy dodging grabbing hands or thrown drinks or food. There's a sign that says not to throw food. Don't feed the monster, he could regain his strength and attack, they said. There was hardly anyone to dodge today though, and his warden is angry.

At the end of the day when the park closes, once or twice a week, Kurt is brought his meal. It should have been today, but instead he was visited by the strongman. A familiarly dark and brutish face. He unlocks the door and glares as Kurt pushes away towards the opposite side.

"Come now. Getmann wants to talk."

Talk? He's not certain he has a voice anymore. He'd certainly forget what his own voice sounds like if Margali hadn't worked doubly hard during her breaks to speak with her youngest. But talking to Getmann is one thing Kurt doesn't think he wants to do. So he shakes his head.

"If you make me come in there, you'll regret it. Get out of there before I tip the cage and throw you out on your ass!"

The yelling makes him flinch, makes his chest pinch and his stomach tighten. Slowly, shakily, he crawls to the door of the cage. His legs are weak, so Markus drags him most of the way. Scraped knees isn't the worst Kurt's encountered so far, so he doesn't resist much. He probably couldn't keep up even if he could walk properly, the man is huge. Getmann is waiting at his desk, half-sitting on it. It's clear for the most part aside from a half empty bottle of something that reeks, and a whip that Kurt can hardly catch a glimpse of before he's pushed to the ground. He doesn't dare look up.

"My, look at you.. All skin and bones!" Max crosses his arms. "Maybe we'd feed you if we could spare the food for a monster, but we can't. Do you know why?"

Kurt is silent.

"I said. Do you know why we can't afford to waste food to feed your disgusting mouth?"

Kurt gulps. "N-no," he stammers and wipes a stray tear from his eye.

"No, I don't suppose you would. Incompetent as you are ugly. Well, I'll be kind and inform you." He impatiently taps his fingers on his arm. "We can hardly afford to keep this place running, no thanks to you. You do nothing. All day you sit and sulk in the corner, boring patrons and putting them out of the mood! You think _you're_ starving? We can hardly feed your family! Would you rather _they_ starve? Answer me, boy!" his voice raises and he steps off the desk, getting closer.

He's trying to answer. He doesn't want them to starve, he doesn't want to hurt them like this but he's scared. His voice is caught between tears and the back of his throat. He hadn't noticed Getmann grab the whip when he'd come forward. Any tears he'd tried to hide before were let loose as the leather cracks against his skin. Any sound he'd tried to make was amplified in a shrill shout.

"Ah, so you can speak!" Max growls, striking him again before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him, shoving him against the desk. "But I can think of a better use for that mouth than incessant whimpering."

* * *

Max enjoys their 'talks', probably more than he should. He seems to enjoy humiliating and destroying people from the inside out, cutting into them with words and whip until they feel less than human. Kurt gets the worst of it, especially since he has an excuse. He isn't human. He's a creature, a monster, an abomination, God's joke. That's what Getmann tells him, and it started to sink in around the third 'talk'. Each time he returns to his cage he feels worse. He feels sick to his stomach, occasionally he wastes what little food they give him until there's nothing left. But there's an awful taste he can't scrape off the back of his tongue, and it's not from the bile.

Margali tries her best to keep him sane, to remind him she loves him, that Amanda and Stephan love him, tries to apologize. He always responds with something that gives her even more pause, makes her reconsider poisoning the bastard. She thought the depression, the awful things he says about himself, was due to the beatings. She's never there, she couldn't know. He couldn't tell her. He's not sure he could even find the words, he knows so little in the first place.

Yet she still picks the lock, crawls into the cage to hold him close and tell him she loves him. That somewhere out there, others would love him too. He has trouble believing her. The worse things he says about himself, she counters with something good. She practically orders him not to believe Getmann, makes him swear to her that he won't believe a word that man says. He swears to her, broken, sobbing quietly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I hate Max so much but dON'T WORRY HE'LL GET HIS COMEUPPANCE AND THEN WE SHALL HAVE FLUFF AND GOOD CIRCUS BOYES


	10. Daredevil Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW FOR THIS CHAPTER  
> More implied CSA  
> Child battery  
> Child abuse  
> The writer taking a small break to write some cool trapeze shit because ouch.

Kurt does as he's told by his keeper, his warden. He sits on the pedestal, doesn't make eye contact with the patrons very often, growls occasionally. He plays his part, but after the circus closes he has one of two moods. Sad, or angry.

Two full years he's been in this cage, on display every day. He only knows how long it's been because he's celebrated his birthday twice. Not like he used to, with little cakes and his one soda he got every year. The past two birthdays have been celebrated in secret with fresh food and clean water, as much water as he could keep down. He gets water every day, but it usually tastes like metal or dirt. In one village they traveled to it tasted like death. That's all he could describe it as.

Over the years he's gotten both better and worse at playing his part. He can barely stand in his little cage, but he tries to move about all the same. Just not when people are watching, he doesn't want to give them that. He'd rather sit on his pedestal and glare at the floor or the grass or their feet. He can't bring himself to look at them. When he looks at them his ears suddenly tune to what they say. He knows what they think of him, but he promised his mother he'd try not to think of himself like that. It's harder than he thought.

Today he was particularly bored, there weren't many people, and he hardly had the energy or the will to entertain them. He's too restless, his tail flicking from side to side behind him. People walk past, giving bored looks to the cage as his warden grows increasingly impatient.

"Make a show, you foolish boy! You're boring the crowd!" he scowls through the bars to Kurt, who had been content to forget he existed for a while.

Getmann had been making his rounds, greeting patrons and checking up on business when he saw the commotion. He approaches the keeper and raises a brow. 

"Is there an issue?" Max holds the lapel of his jacket with one hand, adjusts his glasses with the other.

"He's boring them, losing the crowd. He just sits and does nothing sir!" Kurt can hear the voices, but the sting is lessened by his disconnection with his body at the moment. Until Getmann approaches the cage, his face close to the bars. Regarding Kurt with all the ferocity of a predator about to gain a meal, but with the voice of a kind man.

"Kurt... Kurt, my boy. Let's have a talk, you and I. Okay, son?" he tried to catch eye contact with the boy, but Kurt refuses to look at him.

* * *

The whip stings just as much as it always does, but something else drives Kurt's body. He's on autopilot, tired and angry, too full of energy. It's frustrating Max, pulling harder and harder lashes from a man who looks a lot weaker than he is. He finally snaps, starts shouting.

"You degenerate monstrosity! I take in your gypsy **WHORE** of a mother and this is how I am thanked?! I run a business, not a boarding house!" the whip comes down again and again, and Kurt is snapped back into his body. All too quickly he feels the adrenaline in his veins. He jumps away from the whip, backwards towards the desk. But he knows the desk, he knows where it is, it's always in the same place. He doesn't stumble, doesn't waver. Just dodges the whip. He doesn't notice Max's look of awe, nor the fact that he's sitting perched on the pole behind the desk that keeps the tent up. For a few moments he remains there, scowling and glaring down, a growl in his throat.

"My god.." Max mutters. He drops the whip and steps forward, hands out. Gentle. Quiet. "Kurt.. Oh my dear, dear boy.. I think I have a new job for you.."

Kurt's look goes from defensive to questioning, confused. He doesn't speak, he knows better than that. But the thought burns in his mind like so many lashes of a whip. What does that mean?

"How would you like to appear in the main tent? An acrobat, I can see it now!" he gestures wildly, "The Magnificent monster! Daredevil demon!" he extends his hand towards Kurt, who flinches instinctively. "Come down, my boy, we should talk about this! No more sitting bored in a cage all day!"

He has to admit, the idea of no longer being on display in a cage is tempting. More than tempting. He takes the man's hand, and it feels like a deal with the devil. Maybe this is what Stephan meant all those years ago. _If you leave, you'll be taken away by the Devil!_  It seems he really meant it. He steps down onto the desk and then to the ground, still not getting too close to Getmann. He half listens as the ringmaster talks of plans to make him a 'star'. A bonafide acrobatic wonder, flying on trapeze.

"It would let you let out all that energy! Of course, we may need to give you more food to build your strength, but look what you've done just now! I'm sure we can work something out," he smiles, and Kurt feels sick. He remains silent, nodding on occasion but nothing more. If he can do something to get out of that cage, he'll do it.

"This calls for celebration," his shoulder burns bright with pain as Max clasps it on his way to the desk. He opens a bottle of what Kurt can only assume at this point is some sort of poison, and pours two glasses. He's done this before, but only on rare occasions. He lets Kurt have one glass of the vile liquid. It makes him feel very confused, wobbly, sometimes sick, but he's constantly thirsty so he ignores it. At least it doesn't taste like death.

He lets it numb him for the rest of their 'talk'. Back to their twisted normalcy. Affections that make him feel more ashamed and disgusted than cared for.

* * *

 "No, not like that! You'll break your freakish legs if you-" the head of the troupe stops when Kurt lands perfectly on the springboard. "Or you could be magic. Fine. He can learn on his own, Getmann." he brushes past the ring leader angrily to join his troupe.

Originally, Kurt had meant to be working with them, but they don't want to get near him much less touch him. Their oldest performer, Tannis, had been tasked with teaching Kurt all he knows, but it seems like Kurt has a strange innate knowledge without much help. He just hadn't known the words for some of these things until he was told. He didn't know what he was capable of. Even if he still goes back to his cage at night, he's smiling for the first time in years. Even if it's tiny, even if it disappears the moment he sees Max smiling back at him.

Margali had been brought to watch his first couple of rehearsals. He felt an odd mix of pride and nervousness, but it seemed to fuel him. The two holding the spring bar set it down and him along with it, but practice isn't over yet. The sun is still up. Kurt looks wearily from Max to the troupe leader.

"Just.. Practice trapeze.." the man growls, waving him off and sitting on one of the benches with a bottle of water. Kurt is so jealous of that water. He licks his lips instinctively but shakes himself out of those thoughts to climb. Up to the trapeze. They've had to set his up a little differently since no one will work with him. Three trapeze bars hang suspended in the air, two higher and one lower in the middle. He jumps easily from bar to bar, swinging, flowing like a breeze with the momentum, but he lacks much finesse.

He does well at first, but the rope holding the trapeze gets tangled with his tail when he was preparing to push off. He manages to catch it with his foot before he breaks his spine, thankfully, but it's going to be sore. The troupe leader shouts up at him to do it again from the beginning, but he's out of breath. He pulls himself up onto the trapeze and rubs his back with a wince. 

He's watched the others rehearse. They get to work with each other, they don't have to jump as far, reach as far, or worry about a nervous tail getting caught up in the ropes. Kurt wheezes quietly and regains his balance, then starts to pump the swing again.

The troupe leader calls up to him.

"Don't bore me, boy! Do something interesting!" the shouting from below rings in Kurt's ears. Kurt lands on the lowest trapeze and scowls down at him, baring sharp teeth and dark features. Darker than they ought to be for someone only ten years of age. The older acrobat turns to Gettmann in a huff but doesn't have to say anything. Max simply puts his arm around Margali, holds her steady. She looks both terrified and angry, or like she might cry. That's all Kurt needs to see to stop.

Kurt panics briefly, feeling the telltale sign of tears in his eyes, but wipes them away and prepares for another jump. Up to the higher left bar, hooking his knees on it, holding his feet as he swings. He gains momentum like that for a couple swings, enough that he spins in the air when he jumps across to the far right bar. He does make the jump, just barely reaching it. He lifts his legs a little sloppily, trying to keep the momentum and pull himself further onto the bar.

He's getting drained. Every part of him is sore, his muscles are shaking under the strain. He lets the momentum carry him all the way up so he can spin and grab the bar from the other side, turned around towards the other bars again. A simple switch for a trapeze artist with a decent meal regimen and no muscle atrophy to speak of. His arms lock, tightening like someone wringing out a sponge. He yelps as his hands loose from the bar and he falls. He's lucky they let him practice with a net.

The net is springy and feels exactly like you think it would, falling on it from that height. There's usually a bit of bruising after but it fades quicker than other injuries Kurt's been exposed to. He's less worried about that as much as he is for his mother. He can hear his teacher scolding him, just barely, through the high pitched static in his ears. He can see the top of the tent, just barely, through the ring of black starting to cloud his vision.

"He needs water!" Margali shouts angrily, snapping away from Gettmann's grip. She snatches Tannis' bottle. "Kurt! Can you catch this?" She calls up to him, and he makes some sort of noise in response. It's not words, and that worries her. She turns back to the men surrounding her and growls. "How much have you fed him recently? How much water?"

"That's not your concern, witch," one of the acrobats spat out.

"No," she responds in a snarl, "It's the concern and responsibility of the circus to make sure that he can actually perform! No profit in him dying in front of a bunch of tourists! You could get shut down for that! So how much? A cup? Two?"

The men all stare, wide-eyed, at the angry mother accosting them. Not about how it's her son they're talking about, but about actual logical costs of their neglect. Max raises his hands to stop the commotion before it gets much worse.

"Now, calm down, all of you. We will allow him more food and water, enough to help him perform yes? You're right, it would cost a great deal if he were injured. God works in mysterious, and often confusing ways... Putting all that talent in that thing.." he takes the water bottle from Margali. "Go to your trailer, calm down, have some tea... Tannis, get him down from there so we can give him some water and food." the troupe are loathe to do as he says, as anyone would be working for Gettmann, but they do as they're told.

Kurt's arms are still too shaky to hold the bottle when the net reaches the ground less than gently. One of the acrobats around his age helps grab him up, looking.. Sorrowful. Regret, maybe. Kurt barely notices as he's dragged to the stands so he can sit and drink. He slowly regains use of his arms over the next hour, but he's not done...

The sun is still up.


End file.
